The Irish standard., 1887-10-01

heavy curse on the same thrish.' si
Nancy.
L tell you twas a blackbird,' 81,
Shawn.
AN I tell you twas a thrish,' siz
Nancy.
sWud that, Shawn took down a bun.
naun he had seasonin' in the chimley,
an whaled at Nancy. and gev her the
father av batin.'
AN every Christmas mornin', from
that day to this, twas the same story,
for as sure as the sun Nancy ID draw
down the thrish.
But do you tell me, Sally, she's after
givin' in it was blackbird?'
She is,' replied Sally.
'Begob,' said Tim Croak, after min.
ute's serious reflection, it ought to be
put in the papers. 1 never hard afore
av wrong notion bein' got out av a
woman's head. But Shawn Cow is no
joke to dale wud, and it took him seven
years to do i'd
Matt Hazlitt was standing at his
garden gate as they passed.
Did you hear the news?, Tim in
quired.
No, what is lt?'
sThe masther is after purchasin' the
property
I'm sorry 10 hear it, Matt Hazlitt
observed gravely.
HE went to Dublin the mornln' after
the hunt Tim continued, and made
the bargain. He says he gev thirty
years purchase for i'd
'Tis bad job for old Mr.. Purcell, I'm
afeard,' said Matt.
Il don't say he'll do more than rise
the rent said Tim. Hes not half as
bad as his name
But Matt, remembering the alterca-
tiOn between the landlord and Brian
Purcell, shook his head.
Sally Cavanagh went quietly into the
house, and was warmly greeted by Mrs.
Hazlitt. who kicked Button from the
hearth, and placed a chair for her visi-
tor. Sally whispered something to her,
and Mrs, Hazlitt Immediately ran to
the door and called her husband.
MATT, says she, isn't this an elegant
blue cloth cloak Sally has?'
'Tis nice cloak, sure enough saws
Matt.
Twelve and sixpence a yard. an the
same as new. Never wore it five times,
continues Mrs Hazlitt, taking hold of
the cloak. and rubbing it with the grain.
'Tis as fine as silk Mrs. Hazlitt
whispered some word into her hus-
bands ear, which made him fix his eyes
thoughtfully ON Sally Cavanagh's. He
walked with grave look into his bed :
room, and returning, slipped some
thing into his wife's hand, which some.
thing she slipped into Sally Cavanagh's s
hand. Sally stood up just as if nothing
unusual had happened, and walked out
quickly. After passing the gate she
slackened her pace in order not to come
up too soon with Tim Croak and his
wife. For, in spite of her efforts to re-
press them, the tears gushed from her
eyes. Tim Croak and his wife stopped
to wait for her; and the turkey-red ker-
chief, which she had held ostentatiously
in her hand, was thrust into her pocket.
They might notice that it was wet.
Sally Cavanagh was hearty as ev till
she reached the village. The first bell
was ringing, and Sally and Mrs. Croak
hurried into the chapel. Tim usually
waited till the tinkling of the tlitte bell
announced that the priest was Oh the
ALTAR and so he remained outside in
the yard, to listen to Josh Reddy and
Jack Meehan, the tailor, discussing the
interesting question, whether weddings
were likely to be numerous during the
approaching Shrovetide. Jack Meehan,
who had already been measuring some
Clever young fellows for new shoots,
shrewdly conjectured that Father
O'Gormon would not have to sell his
horse, any way
No fear av that, I'm thinkin',' OBJ
served Tim Croak. looking towards the
table at the gate, upon which Mr.. Pur-
cell was just after plac e pound r,ote.
There we're two large fishes upon the
table; one already heaped up with cop
pers while the bottom of the other was
covered with a layer of silver. This,
we need scarcely observe was the parish
priests christmas collection Josh
raised the unique white hat in acknowl-
edgement of Kate Purcelps bow, and
remarked when she had passed.
That's thirty pounds, sure money,
for Father Paul
They tell me- said Tim Croak, that
she's to be nun. But they III all be
the man III come
oe Lo% 1olx, n